Boys Are Nicer
by ItsMrFabulous
Summary: Alternate title Kill The Emo. Ari and Fang were best friends for a time. daddy, I don't want to play with Max Boys are nicer. They never see each toher again..until high school. M for language. Um. Yeah. This is dead. Don't ask about it. p
1. Three Little Letters

Kill The Emo.

Don't own, don't sue. not in the mood for something fancy-shmancy

I'm putting everything on hold for this. Fang/Ari. Don't flame because of the pairing because I won't listen.

* * *

"Ari?"

I look up from my hood, the middle-aged woman's dimple-infested smile spread wide across her face. "He's ready to see you." The secretary turned to face his desk as I shifted out of my seat, my face never leaving the comforting shadows of my Sparks the Rescue hoodie. I didn't want to go do some testing, but, hey-anything to get me out of class. I shove my hands into the pockets of my worn jeans. Flipping the hair out of the way of my eye, I slowly make my way through the hallways lined with dimly-lit offices.

Today is the day I get my IEP testing done. I don't know what the hell that stands for, and I don't give a shit. It basically means that everyone hates you and they're going to sugarcoat the fact that they don't give a fuck. The price you pay to be labled an emo...I roll my eyes at the thought. It's funny, how three little letters can ruin your day. Let alone the rest of the sophmore population.

I step into the room, being motioned to sit down by a man. He's hardly legal, I should say. What, 25? Good lord, psychiatrists are young these days. "Welcome, Ari-I'm Dr. McCracken, but just call me Aaron." A frendly pat on the back. I desregard the action. "So, what exactly is this 'testing?'" I ask, not interested in introductions.

"Get down to the nitty gritty, that's the way." Aaron gives himself a hearty, fake little laugh, and I begin to hate him.

He clears his throat. "Well, it's simple. All you have to do is circle either true or false. This will only take about an hour to complete, so you won't miss all of your class."

Goody, goody. Now shut the fuck up and sip on your coffee and do your fucking sudoku.

He hands me a flipbook with a a long series of questions.

Only an hour, he said.

Yeah, unlike the other stoners you have in here, I actually take the time to think about the questions.

I sigh to myself, taking out my heaphone, skipping around on the MP3 player to Sparks The Rescue, and opening the first page of the flipbook.

God, the shit people come up with for you to answer-I told you once, I'm not telling you again-I've never done any fucking drugs! No one has it in for me! I LIKE TO GO TO LOUD PLACES AND HAVE A FUCKING GOOD TIME.

I stop about a quarter of the way through the testing at one question.

_I love my dad, and I know that he's proud of my accomplishments._

I recall the day before.

* * *

_ "How was school?" Jeb-the name of my dad-mindlessly asks me in routine, not looking up from the notes he's taking._

_"As if you care." I mumble, throwing down my backpack. I clip on my headphones and walk by him._

_"Take the vaccine." He reminds me. The vaccine so I won't go Eraserish during school. It's still a secret, you know.  
_

_Right. I barely notice the timer going off. I grab my backpack, sifting through it._

_Shit. I left it my locker._

_Oh well, what's_ _one day?_

_I close the pack, dropping it again, and make for my room._

_"Ari? Come back here; I want to talk to you."_

_Yippee! A breakthrough!_

_I silently sit down in the chair next to him._ _"What is it?" I ask, actually curious as to what he's going to say next._

_He lookes up from his notes-this must be important. "Ari, son, I checked your grades through the grade database in your school. They're slipping."_

_"So? You've never been concerned about that."  
_

"_Ari," Jeb sighs, rubbing his temples, "I have a feeling you might be giving up."_

_"Well, put yourself in my situation and you might have a clearer understanding." I say, getting ready to leave._

_"Oh, spare me the 6th grade drama, Ari. Everyone hates you because you're bored and you like to act out." _

_ "Not anymore!" I protest. "You're wrong!"_

_"I am NEVER wrong." Jeb says. "Just look at Maximum-"_

_"Oh, AGAIN you bring Max into this. I'm not going to be like her just because YOU want me to!"_

_"She was a success! YOU WILL TOO!"_

_"LOOK at you! You make your calculations, you make your expectations, and never take the time to see what I want!"_

_"You don't know what you want!" Jeb snaps, now obviously angry. "You're still young, Ari! You don't know ANYTHING."_

_"And gee, where did THAT logic come from, genius? From your IGNORACE! If YOU AREN'T GOING TO ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I WANT TO BE, I DON'T HAVE A FATHER!"_

_Oops. Not I KNOW I should've taken the medicine._

_I was now in mid-morph, my anger being channeled into low growls. _

_Jeb gives me a cold stare. "I knew you were a mistake." _

* * *

Mistake.

A mistake.

I begin to well up, now hiding fully into my hood. When I was going through middle school, I didn't know how to channel my emotions, so I was listed with an emotional disability. Since then, I've only been known as a drama queen, an emo, a stupid, disgraceful emo.

Emo  
I hate the word._  
_

I stare at the question. Ever since middle school, I had given up on being open to people, and now keep everythting fully hidden from everyone. Pretend to be happy.

Give them what they want.

I circle the true bubble, and continue with the testing.

* * *

I was interrupted with more dumb questions from Aaron:

"Ari, you've never been in trouble with the police, have you?"

"No." I say.

"Taken any drugs?"

"No."

"Drank any alcohol?"

"No."

I begin to get annoyed.

"Now, your social wroker told me that you told her you were-"

"Ok, Aaron, you know what? I want o finish the test and get the fuck on with my life, and there's NONE of these questions you're asking I haven't answered before, and YES, I am! Now PLEASE, just-" I stop to control my breathing, then look down at the test again.

Oh, yeah, there's one thing I forgot to mention.

I'm gay.

* * *

My only friend was a boy. I was 6. Things were fine, too.

If I had kept my mouth shut.

"Daddy," I say one day after a playdate, "I don't want to play with Max. Boys are nicer."

I never saw the kid again.

I still remember his name, though.

Fang.

* * *

My fuse is short, I realize as I slide the test over to him and mutter, "You're welcome." I slam the door on the way out as the bell rings for the end of the school day.

* * *

First chapter. Sorry it's not that great. I'm putting everything on hold as of the submission of the chpater to coniture writing this story. Fang/Ari to come later. 


	2. The LetterHuh?

Chapter 2.

Don't own, don't sue.

* * *

_My life is just a black abyss, you know..._

_so dark..._

_grabbing a hold of me and TIGHTENING ITS GRIP._

_Like a pair of little sister's jeans..._

_which look great on me, by the way._

* * *

I try to laugh at this through my crappy day/life, but it doesn't seem to work. I sigh, shutting my laptop and hopping out of bed. IT seemed as if I was depressing my brains out my ears, and there was no saving me. I sift through my stuff, finding my CDs recently bought. Saosin? Not right now. My Chemical Romance? Not pissed off enough. Sparks The Rescue? Too much of them.

Ah, here we go. Senses Fail.

I throw Let It Enfold You in the CD player. I decide to skip supper to get some extra. No, I''m not anotrexic...just constantly not hungry.

My social worker told me to write a letter to her about what I think I can do to make my life better. She thinks she knows that I'm happy, and that this emo thing is just a phase. I grab a pencil, begin to write my letter.

By the end of the night, I have this done:

_I'm about ready to give in. All I want to do is keep everyone happy and be content with who I am and what I want to do. But I know that's never going to happen, and I don't know how I'm going to come to terms with the fact. I'm always preaching to my friends to not worry about other people think, but I'm fucking terrified of what other people will think. My family doesn't believe it's me;but I want me to continue on this path. But I don't know if I can face the endless shame, hatred and anger that will come with it. I'm tired of being goody two shoes for everyone, I'm tired of doing what everyone wants, I'm tired of people telling me I cant, I'm tired of status and popularity, and I'm tired of looking at myself and being the only one that can Ari for who he is. I want people to see Ari: Ari, the one who loves his friends more than anything would do anything for them. Ari, fan of emo music, the internet, movies, pop culture and Cheez-It. Ari, the gay guy who everyone can accept. Nothing more.  
School, right now, isn't important to me. Remember the IEP testing from last year? Complete and utter bullshit. I'm also tired of people being concerned with me, so I'm going to continue to spoonfeed you this happiness and awesome life crap, because, right now, I DON'T HAVE A FUCKING CHOICE._  
_  
Show this to anyone and, yes, I will give up on life._

Unwillingly, I dozed off, my anger being channled for the moment in my letter.

* * *

In school the nexy day, I sit in the back of the room. As usual. 

And do nothing. As usual.

The teacher call everyone's atemtion together. As usual.

And then a kid walks in the class. As-huh?

What the hell?

"You're late, Nick."

'Nick' nods, not real concerned about his tardiness.

"Class, I'd like you all to meet our new student." A moment of silence.

"Well, go on, introduce yourself."

The kdis sighs, stepping forward. "Hi, I'm Nick, but you can just call me Fang."

Hello.

* * *

Yeah yeah, don't bother me about quality, I had about 20 minutes before school. Third chapter up soon. 


End file.
